We Are Who We Are
by Juliettebee
Summary: A collection of short stories of the lives of the characters from The Last of Us. Some before the infection, most of them after. This week: Joel and Tess stories, their dysfunctional relationship, and how they met and came to be.
1. Baltimore, March 2018

**This idea came to me when the site was down for a few hours. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think! I'm also open to suggestions, so don't be shy if you have something you want to say! **

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BALTIMORE, MARYLAND- MARCH, 2018

{Joel}

It's been almost five years now, but I still wake up, thinkin' that life will be back to the way it was. You know, that this was was a fucking horrible nightmare, and that it's all gonna go away. But, I wake up on the cold ground, and it brings me back to reality.

It fucking sucks.

Tommy's still asleep. He's so young, I hate to see him go through this shit. I want to see him live a happy life, or, at least as happy of a life as he can.

We've just got a few more bumps to go through before it's all smooth sailin'. A few more cities, and we'll all be done.

The Baltimore QZ has already turned to shit. It must've been recent, because there are still people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. It's a mess. The military just up and left. There are still a lot of infected, too. I just hope we can make it through without havin' to kill anyone.

Of course, I wouldn't really mind.

It's not like I enjoy killing innocent people. Of course, I don't. But, it's the rapists and dirtbags that I find some kind of enjoyment in. It makes me feel like a hero, I think they call them vigilantes. Yeah. That sounds like me. Like Robin Hood. Sometimes you've just gotta do bad stuff to make everything better for everyone else.

Tommy wakes up, and groans. His hair's gotten even longer. He's growing it out, said he thinks he's like Samson or some shit. His hair, gives him strength. Yeah, a real strong odor.

We were staying in some doctor's office for the night. It was a dermatologist, so I can imagine it was abandoned pretty early on. I find some scalpels and bandages when I'm looking around, but there's not much here. Tommy takes the toilet paper, even though I think it's that cheap shit. The stuff that feels like construction paper. He claims something is better than nothing, but I'd rather not use that on my ass.

We pack our things and head north from the office. Tommy wants to stop at every store and check them out. I go with it, but after four or five stores wiped clean of anything we could even remotely use, I have to stop him.

"We aren't getting anywhere with this. Pick one place every two miles, that's it. Even at that, we won't make it out of town by the end of the day." I said as we walked out of a gas station.

"I just don't want to miss anything," he says. I don't know why, we have enough food to last two weeks, easily. He's always been like that. He wants to look through everything, even family pictures. It's a waste of time, but it keeps him happy so I don't say much.

I'd use a car, but it attracts too much attention. Especially with Tommy, he wants to stop for every Lindsay, Michael and Bob. If they've got a sob story, he buys into it. Even if they're holding a gun at me, he still wants to see the good in them. I'm the one who's got to kill 'em. He has no problem going after infected and animals.

I don't get that shit.

We eat our lunch on top of a motel. He found some some of those little jellies down in the lobby. Leftovers from the continental breakfast, or whatever. I spread them on some saltine crackers, but he eats them straight. I shudder when I see that. Pretty sick, but to each his own.

It's early spring, and we leave our coats on the road for someone else. It was my idea, and I would like to believe I have a heart in me. Somewhere. I find a Macy's, and we pick out new clothes. I want to get new shoes, but I can only think of the blisters I'd be getting walking around in them. I end up keeping a pair in the bottom of my bag, and stuff each of them with extra socks.

Tommy tries on a suit, and I find him admiring himself in the mirror. He sees me, and tries to explain. "I'm just messin' 'round." He laughs.

I stand next to him. "Bet you'd get Alycia Harkins in that. She would've gone nuts."

He stands a little taller. "You really think so?" He turns to me. "But she was a fat bitch."

"You had the crush on her."

"Yeah," Tommy loosens the tie. "But, a couple years after high school, she got fat and ugly. Not just chunky. I mean," he holds his hands a far ways from his torso. "Huge."

I laugh. "Happens to us all."

"Not me," he disputes. "You ain't ever going to see me fat."

"Just you wait," I answer, and sit down on a bench. Tommy quickly changes into normal clothes, and we leave the store. The rest of the mall is trashed, to a degree, but nothing like the rest of the town. It's amazing to me, because I thought people would have gone after clothes and plasma screens. Well, if they had any hope that the world would've been going back to normal.

Tommy walks up to the center fountain. The water is all evaporated, and the pennies have been taken. He takes a step in.

"I always wanted to stand in one of these." He holds his hands up to the sky. "And feel the water come down on my back. That'd be so awesome."

Just as I'm about to make a snide remark, I hear something shatter on the ground behind us. I grab the pistol from my waistband, and try to find the source of the sound.

I see a broken vase on the floor. I slowly approach it, and as I'm about five feet from it, a squirrel takes off from behind the glass. I relax.

"It's just a squirrel," I say, and turn to him. Then I see it. Tommy's looking right at me, but there's a woman holding a gun behind him. He sees the look on my face, and knows. I see him stiffen.

I walk towards them. "Lady, we don't want any trouble," I say. "Just put the gun away, and we'll leave."

She points the gun at me. "Not until you give me all you've got. Him, too," and she motions to Tommy. "Put your hands in the air, kid." He obliges.

"I can't really do that. What do you need? I can give you something, but I've gotta live, too."

She shakes her head. "I need it all. You're not from around here. I can tell. If you've made it this far, you can easily get what you've lost. Give me your stuff, and I'll let you keep your guns."

I take another step. "That's no bargain. Let me give you one: I let you live, you get three days worth of food, and you can have all the clothes in this place."

She puts her finger on the trigger, and aims for me. "Drop your stuff on the ground, now, or I shoot."

"We won't. Sorry, but we can't do that." I walk even closer, and I'm standing in front of Tommy now, and she's on the other side of the fountain.

She walks closer to me, until she's about seven feet away. "This is the last time I'm going to say it."

"Joel, just give her our shit! We can find more!" Tommy yells, hands still in the air.

I cock my gun. "No."

"Joel just do-"

She fires at me, but misses completely. She runs towards me, and I can see Tommy turn to try and stop me, but I am right at her head, and shoot her in the middle of her forehead. Her blood gushes out onto my face. My ears are ringing, but I can hear him yelling at me.

I lower my gun, and bend down to pick up her gun. I look at Tommy, and he's got a small bit of brain on his right cheek. I motion towards it, and he wipes it off quickly. He looks at the mess on his hand, and gags.

We leave the fountain immediately, and head for the nearest exit. I see two very thin children staring at us. At first, I think I'm imagining it, but I see the older of the two running towards us. She looks like a smaller version of the woman who approached us before. She has a knife out, ready to attack.

Tommy notices, and moves back. She comes after me. I fight her off for a few moments, but she stabs me in my shoulder. I gasp in surprise, but I don't slow. She's on my back, so I run backwards into a wall. The impact knocks the breath out of her. While she's still on the ground, I take her own knife. She tries to grab me, but I quickly stab her in the throat.

I look back at Tommy, and see he's wrestling with the other boy. He must be eleven at the most, and Tommy has a huge advantage over him. But he's not trying very hard to fight him off.

I run over, and throw the boy off of him, onto a brick edged planter. The impact breaks one of his bones, I can hear it. As he moans in pain, I put my foot on his back so he stops squirming. I raise the gun his own mother tried to use on me, and shoot him in the back of his head.

Tommy says nothing, but his face betrays him. He didn't want to kill any of them, let alone the kids. But, had I not, they would have killed us.

"Look, little brother. I know, whatever is going on in your mind, you don't want to kill these people. But, you've got to man up. It's either us or them. What do you choose?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you say."

We don't check any more stores that day. We make it out of Baltimore city limits just as the sun goes down. He doesn't talk to me for a week.


	2. Boston, January 2030

**This one is a bit short, but I had originally written a much longer chapter. I cut it in half, and the rest will come later this week. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Anything at all! :)**

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, JANUARY, 2030

{Tess}

Joel and I are waiting in the rations line. It stretches down the block, and we are only halfway through it. He stands in front of me, and I stare at his shirt.

It's another one of those plaid shirts. He owns so many of them, and they all look the same to me. It's worn thin around the elbows. I lean my face into his shoulder, and breathe in his scent. He smells like campfire, and I love it.

"C'mere." He pulls me into a sideways hug, and quickly lets go. I feel my stomach drop. I hate that about Joel. He never wants to touch me, he barely even looks at me, and it hurts. I love him, like I've never cared about anyone so much in my life. And, he, I think he cares for me, somehow, but he just pushes me aside. Like he's hiding something, or stopping himself from connecting with me. I'm probably just making that up.

I know that if the world was the way it was before, there would be no way in hell he'd be with me. I'm not very good looking, and I'm such a bitch. I'd probably be single if life were the way it should have been. I was single, for life, before I had met Joel.

We started out as partners, then the overwhelming desire just got in the way. That's all it was. We could hardly stand each other, still can't now, but the sex brought us together. Somehow, that void of love was filled by Joel. I know he doesn't love me, but I want to hope.

Shit. I'm overthinking it.

I lean back on the wall of an old Subway. The thought of their sandwiches makes my stomach growl. I remember always getting the Spicy Italian when I was younger. The crust of the bread was cheesy and crunchy, but the inside was so nice and fluffy... And it was amazing to me how the mayo/mustard ratio to meat/cheese was constantly spot on. And those chips always seemed better when I got them there. And those goddamn commercials, the six dollar footlong or something...

The lines moves forward, and several people enter the building. They must have a good supply today.

I instinctively touch my back pocket to make sure the ration cards are still there. They're like gold in this city. I've known people who killed over two of them.

I look at Joel's face. It's stony and cold, and he looks so angry, constantly. But, the wrinkles on it somehow soften his appearance. His eyes are still bright, and it makes him look young. He catches me looking at him, and I avert my eyes to the front of the line.

It's not a long wait, within ten minutes we get our rice and beans for the week. Joel pretends to gag when he sees what they hand us, but we can't complain; it's better than creamed corn.

We head back to our shared apartment. It's easier for us to live together, but I know that Joel would like to have some space. He's so difficult to live with, and he's always blowing up on me. We spend the rest of the day reading and barely talking. As the sun sets, I make our dinner, and we sit at the broken table.

He doesn't talk much as we eat, but he thanks me several times for it. I'm actually a horrible cook, but he'd never tell me that.

The people living below us are fighting. I can hear their screams waft through our floor, and I do my best to ignore them. I focus on my own breathing, and I'm soon finished eating my scanty meal of rice and deviled ham.

I lay in bed, and Joel follows me. What comes next is just routine. I turn off the lights, we mumble a few words, and pretend to fall asleep quickly. I have a hard time falling asleep because the fighting starts up right as I close my eyes. The male is arguing about infidelity, and a woman, I'm assuming his parter, was cheating on him. Her point is that if he won't marry her, it doesn't matter what she does, because she's not committed. He doesn't see eye to eye with her. The arguing continues well over twenty minutes. I lay still.

Joel turn to me. "I can't sleep."

"Who could?" I ask, and chuckle softly.

He lays his hand on my arm. Small slivers of moonlight shine through the broken blinds. I watch him move closer to me as he kisses me. I push the sheets off of us. He pulls my shirt off, and caresses my back. He pulls me in close to him.

His touch is soft and distracted, and I know he's somewhere else. The motions are like second nature to him, he doesn't have to think about fucking anymore. I can see it in his expression, he's a million miles away, and I'm the last thing on his mind. I can't stand it anymore.

I say his name, and he's brought back to the now. He suddenly became rough and angry, and it hurts so much it brings tears to my eyes. I pretend not to think about it, having this is better than him ignoring me all night. We're silent except for our breaths, which are shallow and jagged.

I'm so caught up in thinking what I could do to make him love me that I don't even realize when he falls asleep. His back is completely turned away from me, and he's laying on the edge of the bed. He hates me, I think, and tears well up in my eyes again.

I curl up in a ball and listen for the couple downstairs.


End file.
